The first casualty was the Death Eater with the bright idea to cast first.
Counting this one, there were four masked Death Eaters behind Bellatrix, along with two unconscious on the floor. Harry's eyes picked out spell's details as it flew at him— light orange hue, quick casting time, and a wand movement consisting of a sharp stab. Combustion Charm.
Instead of a translucent magical shield, Harry opted to summon the cloth off of a nearby table. It immediately caught flame, at which point Harry Banished it back where the spell came from.
The Death Eater who cast it wasn't prepared for his spell to be turned on him. His reactions were too slow. His body was wrapped in flaming material, burning his skin and letting only screams escape.
Bellatrix was more than quick enough to have stopped that attack. She was a duelist to her core.
Instead of saving her ally, she used the 'opening' to send a Killing Curse at Harry. Almost disdainfully, he summoned a single fork into its path. There was a bang and a flash of sparks, followed by the utensil pinwheeling away and the spell fizzling.
Another Death Eater put out the flames. By that point, their ally wasn't moving.
The restaurant became dimmer as the blue stag disappeared, dissolving into mists and motes of light.
"Overconfident?" Bellatrix asked, raising an eyebrow at the spot where the animal had stood.
"A Patronus is the manifestation of positive thoughts," Harry said. "It draws strength from innocence, joy, and love. Even if mine is a bit different, it's still the same at its core. What I'm going to do now has nothing to do with positive thoughts."
Bellatrix was unphased, but two of the Death Eaters behind her took a step back.
"What's wrong?" Bellatrix cackled. "Mad about what I did to your little Blood Traitor?"
Harry's answer was a Piercing Curse that would've struck her eye, if Bellatrix didn't block with a Duelist's Shield surrounding her free hand.
In the time it took her to react, Harry cast two more spells, both of them silent for the sake of speed. Bellatrix had three allies in this fight, and he targeted two of them at almost the same time.
One dodged. The other ducked. All of them came to the same decision together, using their numbers to hit Harry with four spells at once.
Bellatrix used the Killing Curse, as did the Death Eater closest to her. Harry singled that one out as being more powerful than the other two, who used less difficult dark spells instead.
Harry defended using one of the room's many tables, rather than something as small as the fork he used before, blocking all four spells in one move.
There was a downside to this approach. The curses splintered but didn't break the table, leaving it as a mostly-complete shield in front of him. That was an invitation to his opponents to keep casting.
Bellatrix laughed raucously. "Let's see how long your shell lasts!"
To leave his cover would make Harry a target. As long as he stayed behind it, he couldn't aim his spells. So he aimed for the one thing that he could.
Harry transfigured the wooden table into solid steel. A defensive move, seemingly, until he Banished it at the speed of a car.
The large table, which probably weighed several thousand pounds now, flew in a straight line, blasting away everything in its path, spells included.
Three of the Death Eaters erected shields to protect themselves, while Bellatrix took a more proactive approach. A whip made of fire extended from the tip of her wand and wrapped around one of the room's support pillars. She pulled her body sideways, out of the path of the table, before spinning in a circle. The heat from her flame whip melted through the stone, letting her fling a superheated disk of metal toward Harry.
While dangerous, the projectile's speed was slower than the table had been. Harry had time for two spells, the second of which was a shield to stop Bellatrix's attack.
The spell he used first was a Summoning charm. Manipulating his intent slightly, Harry said, "Accio, glass!"
Affecting the intent behind a spell was difficult, but not impossible. Say, for example, instead of summoning just one item, summoning a great many of the same thing.
While Harry raised a shield and stopped Bellatrix's deadly projectile, the other Death Eaters were stabbed a dozen times over, all the glass from the broken window flying into their backs.
It wouldn't kill them, but one thing Harry had learned time and time again dealing with Dark Wizards was that they were a lot better at dealing pain than taking it.
All three of them dropped their guards, grasping at their backs with their hands and shouting with pain.
Their mistake was given no mercy. Three spells, cast with rapid wand movements that blended seamlessly together, hit their heads, breaking the skulls beneath each gaudy mask.
Three Killing Curses came at Harry from the side. The tables around him jumped into their path, not summoned but enchanted with a life of their own.
Bellatrix growled. She didn't seem to be having as good of a time as she had been before. She started moving to the left, facing Harry the whole time, and he turned gradually in place to follow her with his eyes.
"You're as he said you'd be. Strong and weak at the same time," Bellatrix said.
It was the first time he fought her as an adult, but her assessment didn't surprise him. Bellatrix considered the power of spells first and foremost. The nastier the things that a spell could do to your enemy, the more worthwhile it was. That's how she defined strength.
Thus far, the most 'powerful' spell Harry used was a Bludgeoning Charm. He had Banished, and Summoned, and turned their own curses into weapons against them. It was effective — hence the "strong" part — but each spell was ordinary and easy— hence what made her call it "weak".
It was something else she said that stuck out to Harry.
"Someone's been talking about me," Harry said. "Who would that be? Voldemort?"
Bellatrix smiled indulgently, most likely imagining Harry's flayed body even as they spoke. "Did you think he wouldn't notice you? Yes, you've done your best to hide, but my master misses nothing. The Carrows, then Greyback, then the giants. All weak, of course." She flapped her hand dismissively. "But even if they were weak, they weren't completely useless. Their services were valued, and their losses were noted. Of course he would want to understand how they were lost."
"I have questions of my own. Namely, why you aren't rotting in Azkaban," Harry said.
Bellatrix laughed uproariously. "You did it! You gave us the key!"
"You're talking nonsense," Harry said.
"Because I'm insane!" Bella said. "I was losing my mind each day, until I was saved… You handed us the key!" She continued to laugh.
Harry's lips curled with disgust, and Bellatrix's laughter tapered to a giggle.
"You sure hate me!" she said. "What's wrong, Professor Potter?" She furrowed her brow and spoke in a grating baby voice. "Are you really really angry?"
Harry took a deep breath, which turned into a sigh. "I was going to try and get answers out of you. I wanted to know how you knew where my students would be, how you got free, and all manner of questions that have been stuck in my head. But I was shortsighted. I forgot what you're like, Bella, when I should've remembered the truth after Bones Manor."
Bellatrix grinned. "How's Amelia?"
"You're insane," Harry said. "You said it yourself. So I'll give you Amelia's regards. An eye for an eye… Except I don't want an eye. I want your whole fucking head."
"Try to take it!" Bellatrix cackled.
Harry's wand snapped up. She blocked his spell, and the wall behind her split in half.
Bellatrix's Protego showed cracks in the middle. She blocked the Cutting Curse. Everything behind her wasn't so lucky.
Bellatrix actually pivoted to look back from the corner of her eye, watching as the restaurant's front wall was sliced horizontally. The rubble came down on the bodies of the other Death Eaters, finishing the ones who had just been unconscious.
Harry walked forward slowly.
His spells beat against Bellatrix's defenses. She erected shields, adding a Maxima to her incantations. Mixed in, she used a Duelist's shield over her free hand, batting spells around her body when she didn't have time for a full shield. The closer Harry came, the more she backed up.
As her frustration mounted, Bellatrix lashed out with a Killing Curse, snapped off in the brief window between two of Harry's spells.
The attack was wholly ineffective. Before it traveled more than a foot, a piece of rubble lurched into the curse's path. The collision between the magic and the rubble was so close to Bellatrix that it knocked her backwards.
She tucked her shoulder, rolling through the landing, and came up on her knee. Bellatrix was skilled. Unlike the average Death Eater, who was a sadist more used to picking on those weaker than them, she was unsatisfied with that kind of existence. She learned how to duel with fanaticism, all so she could play with even competent wizards as if they were wandless Muggles.
"Avada Kedavra! Avada Kedavra! Avada Kedavra!" she snarled.
Only Voldemort could cast the Killing Curse faster and more commonly than Bellatrix. Still, Harry had faced enough Dark Wizards in his time to have countermeasures.
He moved his wand up like he was painting with a brush. The ground in front of him erupted into the air, forming a thick mound four meters in height. Harry continued walking forward slowly, and while he went, he changed the shape of his defense, creating stairs in the dirt. Climbing it in five quick steps, his head and arm appeared above the top of the barricade. The position gave him cover and a perfect vantage over Bellatrix, which he used to rain down Blasting Curses.
They were outside now, Bellatrix's retreat and Harry's advance having taken them out onto the street. The area was devoid of Muggles. There was evidence everywhere of hasty exits. Cars had been abandoned in the street after their drivers got out and left, the engines still running. There were forgotten boxes of takeout sitting on a bench. To the left of the restaurant was a small park overlooking the River Thames, full of the belongings of tourists who were now long gone. Harry could see jackets, souvenirs, and at least one discarded camera.
For once, he was grateful to Bellatrix. Her attention to detail setting this trap made his life much easier.
Currently, Bellatrix was running like a rat. Harry's blasting curses made the London street look like a warzone, plumes of debris spraying into the air after each of his spells. Car alarms screamed to life as the shockwaves reached the street.
Bellatrix was forced to dive, roll, and stagger to escape. With barely a second between attacks, she found time to fire a single Killing Curse. Harry's eyes briefly widened as he registered it was coming straight for his head, the only part of his body that she could see.
The stairs he'd transfigured into the earthen bunker turned to a ramp. His body slid down. Before hitting the ground, he kicked off, throwing himself into a backward roll. The moment he came out from behind the barrier, he cast a spell with a narrow silver bolt.
The distance between him and Bellatrix was roughly fifty meters. Her shot, directly at his head atop his battlement, had been a stunning example of marksmanship. Harry's aim was just as good.
Bellatrix hadn't known where he would reappear, nor had she expected him to do it as quickly as he did. Her guard was down enough for Harry to score his first clean hit.
He didn't just hit her. He didn't just hit her head. Harry's spell struck her eye.
Bellatrix screamed. She slapped a hand down over the side of her face, a trickle of red appearing beneath her palm. Bellatrix's initial scream became an unearthly wail. She stood up, whipping her wand about herself.
It wasn't purely rage at having her vision halved. She had just been hit in the same place where she struck Amelia at the culmination of their duel. The spell Harry used was a weak Piercing Curse, only strong enough to penetrate about half and inch into any surface.
If he'd used a stronger spell, she'd be dead. He left her alive on purpose, just to prove a point. And Bellatrix knew it.
Harry recognized what she was casting before she used the incantation.
Flames more intense than anything natural leapt out of Bellatrix's wand. She spawned Fiendfyre in tremendous quality. Bellatrix wasn't as strong as himself, Dumbledore, or Voldemort. But she was only one level beneath them, as close as almost anyone in Britain. Combined with her nasty nature, she matched Fiendfyre's malevolent personality as well as Voldemort did— perhaps slightly better. Bellatrix lived to hurt, while Tom Riddle merely stopped at nothing when it came to his true goals.
Bellatrix's flames took only one shape, forming a multitude of snakes. Half of them slithered through the air while the others rushed along the ground. Their bodies lit the grass of the park on fire, spreading the flames, only adding to the attack.
Harry stood up and cast the countercurse.
He did it again. Again. Again.
Again, again, again, again, again, again, again, again, again, again, again, again, again, again, again, again, again, again, again, again, again, again, again, again, again, again, again, again, again, again, again, again, again, again, again, again.
A countercurse for every creation, picking off the multitude as they came for him. Harry couldn't let a single one through. He couldn't let even one escape. Bellatrix's skin was turning pallid as she continued to pour malevolent flames into the world. She'd taken her hand off of her face, her injured eye shut and bleeding. The light from the Fiendfyre glinted off her skin, a layer of sweat building up. Harry's wand was nothing but a blur, his lips speaking the same incantation endlessly, keeping every construct from getting within ten meters.
Slowly, the constructs at the back started to turn around. They doubled back, slithering toward the witch that spawned them.
Fiendfyre had a penchant for powerful, evil wizards and witches. It related to them. But the flames also took the path of least resistance in their single-minded quest to burn anything and everything.
Harry was an impassable wall. This exhausted, injured witch looked far more flammable. Dark magic was never big on loyalty.
Bellatrix noticed this treacherous turn and hastily, angrily, canceled her spell. She lurched back as ten different snakes lunged at her, coming from multiple sides.
Bellatrix fell on her back ungracefully. On the way down, with an exhausting burst of effort, she dispelled the fire that turned on her. Harry easily put out the last remnants that were still close to him, ensuring it wouldn't spread in London.
He resumed his slow walk forward, as he'd done back in the restaurant.
Bellatrix saw him. She staggered up. There were no more smiles, no cackling, and certainly no taunting.
Harry felt the Anti-Apparition spells disappear. Bellatrix turned on her heel, but he'd already replaced the canceled jinx with one of his own, blocking her escape.
She backed away from him, sweating and hurt. The Portkey blockage came down next. Again, Harry replaced it faster than she could get away. Bellatrix howled, lashing out with a Killing Curse.
They were in the middle of the park now. The grass had been burned away, but most of the trees had escaped Bellatrix's flames. Harry didn't even use his wand to stop her Killing Curse. He cast a completely different spell, and at the same time, took a fifty pence coin out of his pocket with his other hand, tossing it toward the green bolt.
Bellatrix's Unforgivable charred the coin's metal and sent it pinging away. Yet the simple Muggle coin stopped the bolt, just as the fork had done in the restaurant.
Countering her spell this way gave Harry an opening. Instead of a tangible spell, he worked his magic on the surroundings. Bellatrix never saw the trees come to life until they had her.
The leafless branches of a birch bent down and throttled her neck, hoisting her off the ground. Meanwhile, a naturally-leaning Juniper struck her arm like a whip, breaking Bellatrix's grip on her wand.
Bellatrix's feet kicked the air. Her fingers dug at the branch holding her to no avail. Harry stood still and watched.
"Fuck—er!" Bellatrix gasped. "Kill—you!"
After a minute spent just watching, Harry turned to the side. He walked over to a bench overlooking the Thames. There, a Muggle had left behind their camera, abandoned when the Muggle Repelling Charms emptied the area. Harry dug in his pocket, pulling out a few hundred pounds in cash, hoping it would find its way to the owner when they came looking for their item.
He then strolled back to Bellatrix, stopping underneath her swaying form.
"He'll— Kill— you—!" Bellatrix said.
Having said all he wanted to already, Harry ended her hanging predicament with a cutting curse.
Bellatrix's body fell. The tree adjusted its grip, catching her head by the hair. Harry lifted the camera, trying a few angles before finding the right one.
He snapped a photo.
Lowering the camera, Harry looked around. It made his task easier, but it was odd that the Aurors hadn't arrived yet. This wasn't the sort of situation Amelia would ignore, especially when her niece had been in danger.
With nothing else to do, Harry lit his wand tip on fire, burning a message into the ground beside Bellatrix's body.
Is this a rumor, Scrimgeour?
Referencing Scrimgeour's accusations after the attack on Amelia, when he described the Order's claims as "hateful rumors", was rather petty. It would give Harry away as the one behind this. But frankly, the cat was thoroughly out of the bag. There was no excuse to explain away this scene, so he might as well make the reveal with style.
Which wasn't to say he planned to stay on the scene. It wasn't about running away or hiding. He just had people waiting on him who could use some peace of mind.
The Muggle Repelling Charms were still engaged, meaning no one would stumble onto the scene before the Ministry finally showed up. Harry disabled the protections against magical travel and Apparated straight to Hogsmeade.
When he got there, he found the bulk of his class and the chaperones gathered in the street. He'd appeared a distance away, so none of them had noticed. Smiling, he tugged on his coat to straighten it, approaching them at a brisk walk.
The expressions Harry could pick out ranged from horrified to distraught. Were they that scared for him? He'd hoped that his show with the Patronus would convince them they didn't have to worry.
When he got close enough, as if he was strolling into the classroom, he greeted them with a cheerful, "Hello, everyone!"
They spun around. He saw a handful of students sigh with relief, but no one looked happy. Not even the chaperones.
Hannah Abbott, one of the closest students to him, hurled herself at Harry, hugging him around the waist. He could feel from her breath that she was crying.
"I'm alright! I'm okay!" Harry assured her. But the tears didn't stop.
Harry looked around again, and when he saw other students crying, the floor of his stomach dropped out.
"What happened?" Harry asked, urgency bleeding into his voice.
"He's gone."
Neville stood up. His arm had been over Susan, one of the ones who'd been crying. He faced Harry, and only when he made eye contact with Harry did Neville's own tears start to fall.
"He's gone, Harry," Neville repeated. "Dumbledore is dead."